


365 (so fresh)

by honeydukes (sjnsdipity)



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 乐华七子NEXT | NEX7, 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: 365 Fresh AU, Alternate Universe - 365 FRESH, Angst, Attempted Sexual Assault, Blood, Drug Use, Gambling, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Multi, Murder, Polyamory, Recreational Drug Use, Short Chapters, Violence, cursing, kind of, kind of???, lapslock, self destructive behavior, warnings are in the notes at the beginning of each chapter!!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-05-18 20:38:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14859884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sjnsdipity/pseuds/honeydukes
Summary: xukun, ziyi, and zhengting meet when they're all bloodstained and bruised. maybe, just maybe, that's why they work so well together. they're all different but they're all the same.OR the one where zhengkunyi are triple h in the 365 fresh music video.





	1. xukun.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _fuck it_ he decides, shrugging his shoulders. the smirk he lets settle onto his face is nothing if not a little masochistic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings for this chapter!!!!!  _blood, violence, gambling, somewhat masochistic behavior???, mentions of character death and stealing._ please be careful when reading!!!

so maybe xukun has an issue. just  _maybe._ but it isn't his fault. there's something about the money in his hands, even though he loses it all the next hour. there's something about the rush, how it makes him squirm with impatience and yet it makes him so  _excited._

but right now, running down a random street, he's not so excited. yeah, he likes the rush of it all, but he doesn't really like what comes next. he doesn't like how his legs are burning, his muscles begging for a break and for him to stop. he doesn't like how his lungs are aching for air either, it feels like he's been running through a desert without any water— and technically that's true. it's fucking hot enough, and the heat definitely isn't helped by what he's wearing, and it definitely doesn't help him run any faster— but he likes the way silk feels on his skin. he hasn't had a drink in  _however long he's been running,_  and all he really wants to do is stop _._  but the men behind him aren't letting up.

he makes a turn, nearly slamming into the wall that pops out of nowhere, and turns down the back alley it leads into. "fuck," he whispers to himself, because there are two more men already in the alley way, slow and footsteps echoing with the frantic ones of the men behind him. he turns to see if he magically shook the two behind him off, but no, they're still there, still snarling insults at at him. "great."

"where's the money?" the tallest one asks, stepping in front of xukun. xukun wants to scoff.  _since when do you ask first and hit later,_ he thinks to himself. that's never how things go. these are the same guys who got him last time, and they know as well as he does that the money is already gone. he could play into their little game, if he really wanted to, but he's not up for it. not today.

 _fuck it_ he decides, shrugging his shoulders. the smirk he lets settle onto his face is nothing if not a little masochistic. his mother used to say  _if you caused it, you deal with the consequences._  he figures that it's up to fate, and if his consequences kill him like his mother's killed her, then it must run in the family. maybe xukun kind of likes the pain too.

so he stands and he takes it. he takes the hits, the fists to his face. he feels his nose start to bleed, feels one of their rings slam against his cheekbone and split the skin, but he doesn't do anything about it. one of them, the big one from earlier, slams a bony knee into his stomach that knocks the breath out of him, and they finally leave when they notice him gasping for air.

"the police wouldn't care even if we left you here dead," one of them spits at him as they leave, and he knows it's the truth.

xukun sits there for a while, slumped against the wall and breathing heavily. "come on," he whispers to himself eventually, forcing himself to his feet with the help of the wall. everything hurts. it hurts, but he pushes himself, because he can't stay here anymore. it's time to jump town again, time to leave and go wherever the road takes him. just like he always fucking does. 

* * *

the girl xukun meets at the club that night is one of the better ones. she's not annoying, even though she's drunk. if she sees the bruises on his face in the dim light of the club, she doesn't say anything about them.

she's cute too, short black hair brushing her chin whenever she moves. she's got dimples too, and her eyes crinkle at the corner when she laughs at a joke he's told her. she's surprisingly wise, even though she looks around his age. she talks like she's seen everything the world has to offer, like she's been around for long enough to have experienced all the pain of the world. she may have mentioned her name, but he either wasn't listening or can't remember.

he does it as she's telling him a story about her cat, min. he's not really listening. he reaches an arm around her, sly and careful, to make her think that he's actually interested. he smiles and nods at all the right times, walking his fingers along the back of the seat. she's so drunk she barely notices when his fingers slip into her back pocket, and she definitely doesn't notice when her keys slip from her pockets. he grins slyly, holding his arm around her shoulder. he waits until she finishes her story to leave.

"i have to go to the bathroom," he tells her, pressing a kiss to her cheek in return for her car, and she nods, her eyes unfocused. the girl really can't hold her alcohol. he pushes his way through the dance floor, hands landing on his waist and his shoulders, and someone asks him to dance. xukun gives the boy an unapologetic smile and shakes his head, yanking his wrist out of the grip the boy has on it. he fucking hates how sweaty people get when they dance, even though if he had the time, he would join them. he exits the club, and makes his way to the parking lot.

he pushes the alarm button on the keys, flinching when the loud ringing meets his ears. how else was he supposed to find the car, though? he roams up and down aisles of cars, dancing along to a beat in his head that no one else can hear. god _,_ he just wants to feel a steering wheel under his hands. he wants to feel the wind in his hair while he drives, he wants to hear the music blasting in his ears. he just wants to  _go._

the car, xukun notices when he finds it, matches the personality of the girl from earlier. it's an older looking car, but it's clearly been renovated and looks brand new. the grin on his face is unbelievably wide. he whistles, swinging the key around his finger and pressing the alarm button again to turn the ringing off. when he unlocks the car and slides in the front seat, he takes back his earlier feeling of guilt. the car is the best smelling thing he's been around in a  _long_ while.

he doesn't know where he's going, but when he pulls out of the parking lot of the club, he knows that this was the right choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic was inspired by [this tweet](https://twitter.com/vale_incle/status/1004021546065842176) as well as the music video for 365 fresh by triple h!!! xukun in this fic takes the place of hui in the music video. the next chapter will be from zhengting's point of view, and the third will be from ziyi's. i hope you enjoyed reading it, it's kind of a mess right now because it's 5am and i wrote this instead of sleeping, but yeah. the chapters will also probably get a little longer as i go, but feel free to leave feedback n stuff like that!!!


	2. zhengting.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rationally, somewhere deep in his heart, he knows that this wasn't his fault. but zhengting hasn't ever really been the rational type.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings for this chapter!!!!!  _implied/referenced prostitution, attempted sexual assault, murder (in self defense), blood, and character death._ please be careful when reading!!!

zhengting really could be somewhere better.

he could be living in a big apartment, with riches and everything he could ever want. he knows that. he knows that he could be, and is, what everyone wants. he's got a pretty face, and he's got an even prettier body, he knows. he's flexible, an amazing dancer— at least he used to be. everyone he ever met wanted him, and that was the issue.

zhengting isn't a piece of meat. he's not something for people to ogle at and touch, and he's not something for people to  _fuck._

he could be somewhere better, sure, but that  _somewhere better_ came with a lot of complications. one of those complications being how he was seen. if he had stayed, he wouldn't even be seen as a human. he would be seen as a toy, so quite frankly, he's glad he didn't end up where he was supposed to.

but here, he's not seen as much better. people still ogle at him, they still trail their eyes up and down when he's not watching, but at least the people here are a little more fucking discreet about it. but he's happy here. he likes it, the little hole in the wall barbershop. it's on the corner of two streets, tucked between a pizza shop and a jewelry store— a weird combination that somehow worked. it was a little shop, barely enough room for their counter, the tiny storage room and the three styling stations. there's a tiny waiting area too, but it only consists of two chairs and a side table for magazines, and occasionally, cookies. there were only three other employees, who zhengting considered his friends. wenhan, a weird 4d type kid, yixuan, who sometimes scared people off with his looks but was very kind, and yibo, the youngest of them all, who liked to pretend that he was manly despite being a huge dork. 

tonight, though, zhenging is the only one working. he'd made an appointment previously, with a regular client, but he couldn't come in until after closing. zhengting trusted liang for the most part, he was kind, and he was generally someone who treated zhengting with respect. other than that, though, he didn't really know much about him. zhengting only really knew that he was two years older, and that he had a dog at home. he knew liang had a girlfriend he'd been dating since high school. he didn't really know what he did as a job, though, he didn't know what type of interests he had. they weren't friends, but they had a pretty okay relationship.

zhengting looked up from his phone when the bell above the door rang, and liang walked in with a gentle smile on his face. "hello, zhengting," he greeted, his voice as soft as ever. he was tall, tall enough that he had to duck his head as he came into the shop to stop himself from slamming it on the door frame. 

"hi, gege," zhengting said brightly, a grin on his face as he motioned for liang to sit down in one of the styling chairs. "you just needed a trim, right?" liang hummed, taking long strides over to the chair. he adjusted the height himself, used to the shop and the way things were kept.

"actually, do you think you could give it some layers?" liang bent his head back to watch zhengting clean his scissors, the metal glinting in the moonlight shining through the windows. zhengting nodded, listening to the radio playing lowly in the back. it was a song he was used to hearing, because the radio decided to play it every single day, for whatever reason. it wasn't even that good of a song. 

they were mostly quiet as zhengting cut liang's hair, the silence broken only by the occasional question or zhenging humming to whatever shitty songs the radio station was playing. liang was a quiet type person. he didn't really talk much, he never really had much to talk about. he was someone who listened when zhengting wanted to talk, but tonight definitely wasn't one of those nights. zhengting had been having a long and hard day— which is why he's so glad for the relaxation time and quietness that liang brought.

he was almost done, going steady. that is, until he feels a warm hand creep up the back of his thigh.

"what the fuck?" zhengting's voice was loud, and he couldn't help the step he took backward, his hip bumping into the counter behind him. "ge?"

liang turned around, his hair still cut a little funny on the right side, and glanced at him with heavily lidded eyes. zhengting's skin crawled. liang hummed lowly, the look in his eyes different from earlier. predatory almost. "what's wrong, zhengting?" he purred, standing up from the chair. "i thought we liked each other, hm?"

"i  _don't_ ," zhengting told him. "what about your girlfriend?"

liang laughed, taking a step forward. "that bitch?" he asked, and zhengting's grip tightened on the scissors in his hand. "she doesn't mean anything to me." 

"i shouldn't mean anything to you either!" liang took another step forward, tilting his head down at zhengting. zhengting tried to step back, but the counter was already digging into his back, and he couldn't move back any further. liang was still another step away from him, and zhengting bit his lip as he realized that he was backed into a corner with nowhere else to go. "don't touch me," he warned, his voice more steady than he was expecting it to be.

"don't be like that," liang hissed, reaching out for zhengting's wrist. zhengting tried to jerk away, and  _fuck,_ the scissors fell out of his hand. liang's grip was tight. "you want this as much as i do."

"i fucking don't!" zhengting screamed, ripped his wrist out of liang's grip, and shoved his chest as hard as he could. 

everything happened so quickly. it seemed like a tenth of a fucking second. zhengting blinked, watching liang slip backwards. liang opened his mouth, maybe to curse at zhengting, maybe to yell, but then his head hit the base of the styling chair. it seemed so quick. he stopped moving, his mouth still held wide open like he had something more to say. zhengting doesn't really know what's happening. he stands there, still shocked, and doesn't register the pain until after he realizes that there's blood spilling from liang's head.

"oh my god," he realizes. "he's not moving."

he's not breathing either, zhengting finally sees after poking liang's leg with the tip of his converse. "fuck," he whispers. "fuck, i just killed someone." rationally, somewhere deep in his heart, he knows that this wasn't his fault. but zhengting hasn't ever really been the rational type.

the blood is warm and wet, and disgustingly sticky. he feels like he can't breathe, his body holding all of the air inside and refusing to let it out. he doesn't know why he's fucking crying. "fuck," he sobs out, scrubbing at the blood on the floor with a towel from the back. "fuck!" he's screaming now, and it hurts his lungs, but he can't stop. he's just killed a man. he's just  _killed_ a man. he scrubs harder, but the blood only soaks through the towel and onto his fingers, staining his skin red.

he tries so fucking hard to clean it up, but he can't. at one point, he wipes his face with the back of his hand, leaving a streak of blood that mixes with his tears, and it's not  _right._ this isn't right, this isn't how it's supposed to go. he's supposed to be away from this type of shit, but it seems like crime always fucking chases him. "fuck it," he mumbles, standing up and throwing the towel down. it lands on liang's stomach. "fuck it, i'll just... this isn't my fault." he says it, but he feels the bile build up in his throat. he swallows it down.

maybe if he runs, he would be fine. running had always worked for him. it worked when he ran away from his family, and it worked when he ran away from the dollhouse, so why wouldn't it work now? maybe it would bring him some peace.

he steps over liang's body carefully, his eyes burning from tears that aren't falling anymore. he throws his key to the shop down in the blood, figuring he doesn't have a reason to come back anyways. the boys will just have to do without him. he locks the door before he leaves, glad that it's night time now. glad that he doesn't have a roommate to go back to who would blow up his phone with texts- fuck, his  _phone._ it's still inside on the counter, and zhengting decides he doesn't care.

he takes a gulp of the night air, clear and yet suffocating at the same time, and starts to step off of the curb and into the street. he doesn't notice the lights until he's already into street and the car is slamming to a stop.

the boy behind the wheel, a baby faced boy with ash blonde hair, stares up at him with wide eyes. he's got yellowing bruises smeared across his face, under his eyes and along his cheeks, and there's a cut on one of his cheekbones. zhengting didn't want anyone to see him the way he was, but it was too late now. he puts his face in his hands, flinching away when he feels the still sticky blood on his fingers. "need a ride?" the kid asks, sticking half of his body out of the window.

zhengting's eyes snap up, wide in his surprise. "i— yeah. yeah, i could use a ride." what kind of person lets a bloodstained man into his car? he doesn't know what zhengting is capable of, he doesn't know what zhengting did to get the blood on his hands. zhengting could be a murderer for all the stranger knows— and he is. 

zhengting finally moves when he notices the stranger staring at him. he shuffles his feet a little, his ankle hurting from where liang's foot had hit him as he fell to the ground. he opens up the passenger's door of the car, sliding in and angling himself away from the kid. 

"are you okay?" the kid asks after they've been driving for a while. he doesn't ask zhengting's name, so zhengting doesn't ask for his. he glances over at zhengting out of the corner of his eyes.

"yeah," zhengting mumbles.

"i won't ask what happened, because it's pretty obvious something  _did._ " the kid pops open the center console, digging around for a minute, and then pulls out a clean white towel. "but i know the blood doesn't feel good." the center console snaps closed when the kid pushes it, and zhengting stares for a moment before reaching and taking the towel into his hands. 

"thank you," he mumbles.

the kid gives a half smile in response and turns the radio up higher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so!! yes the other employees are the chinese members of uniq wheeze... the character liang is one of my own, and i got his name bc theres an actor named guo liang so yeah. his is kinda a mess i didnt really know where i was going with this one, it just kind of happened but!! i hope you enjoyed it!!


	3. ziyi.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he's always liked feeling like this, like one of the balloon man things in front of car dealerships. he feels like he's floating and nothing can ground him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings for this chapter!!!!!  _drugs/recreational drug use, vomiting and blood._ please be careful when reading!!!

ziyi grew up rich. he grew up with anything he wanted, and and everything he'd barely even  _imagined_ having. he had the newest phone, the newest clothes, the newest girl or boy on his arm, because that's he was always told that if he wanted it, he could have it.

he found, as he got older, that he wanted freedom. yeah, maybe he was rich, maybe he had what seemed like all the money in the world, but he didn't want any of that. he wanted to be able to travel, he wanted to be able to leave and come back whenever, or at least have a  _reasonable_ curfew like the other kids. because what type of fifteen year old had a curfew of 5 in the afternoon? ziyi wanted to be able to go out with his friends— not that he had any. he wanted to struggle like others, instead of being given anything and everything. 

when ziyi was seventeen and his dad and step-mom were away on a business trip, he left. he didn't take much, just a backpack with some of his clothes in it. he made sure to slip his mother's old ring onto his finger, knowing full well that he couldn't leave something so precious behind. he only took his wallet, full of bills, because if he used his credit card his father would fucking track him down. he left his phone on his bedside table. when he left, he never turned back.

in retrospect, leaving was not only freeing, but a little self-destructive. he left everything he ever knew behind, he left all of his family, most of his belongings. he definitely didn't know what the fuck he was doing on the streets, but somehow he managed.

maybe it was how softly he talked around other people, maybe it was how kept his voice pleading and innocent as he asked them for a place to stay, but people generally trusted him. which, as they all found out, was a huge mistake. he did what he had to do, but they didn't know that. all  _they_ knew was that he always left after one night, and took their wallets and a valuable or two with him more often than not when he left. the people he interacted with never remembered his name— the fake one he gave them. sometimes he was called chengyan, sometimes minghao, sometimes zhangtao, but never ziyi. 

maybe if ziyi wasn't so fucking self destructive, he would be able to keep out of trouble. there was only one case where he got caught up with the police, only one time, and it was still because he wanted  _freedom._

_"c'mon," the man in front of him purred, a smile curling at the edge of his lips. ziyi is sixteen and new to this, new to living on the street and having to beg for shelter. he doesn't know how far from home he's gotten, but he's out of his hometown, and that's good enough for him. "it's not that bad, hm? it gets better the more you do it." ziyi glances down at the little blue pill in front of him, barely even the size of the nail on his pinky finger._

_"are you sure?" ziyi had been raised on the basic concept of 'drugs are bad for you, if you take them you'll certainly die.' his father preached that at him every chance he got, every time he talked to his father he heard 'don't do drugs.' now, though, his father isn't here. the voice in the back of his head is yelling at him, screeching his name and telling him that this isn't a good choice and that he should just leave. but ziyi has always wanted away from his father's hold on his life._

_"it doesn't hurt, kid," the man snickered a little, his hand warm on the back of ziyi's shoulder. "you said you wanted to relax, right? so relax." ziyi took the pill._

the man, as it turned out, was a drug dealer wanted by the local authorities. the police came and found ziyi high as a fucking kite, a smile painted on his face and his limbs loose like noodles. they didn't arrest him, because they didn't know who he was, but they took him to the station. they waited until he was sobered up to ask him any questions, and gave another fake name and a sob-story about how the man said he would kill him if he didn't take the pill. the police let him go and ziyi forced himself to forget the man's name.

after that, ziyi got caught up in more drugs. he never took anything as serious as the little blue pill again, mainly because after he'd taken it the first time, he threw up and threw up some more, until there was nothing left in his stomach, and then he threw up  _more._ he mainly stuck to weed, which was funny because it did so  _little_ compared to the pill from before. he was high most of the time, whenever he could manage to find weed or snatch a brownie off of someone. he liked feeling relaxed, he liked feeling like he was free to do whatever he wanted to do.

just like now. he's high as can be, his mind empty and he himself completely content. he didn't really know where he was, didn't know what city he was in or what time it was, but he felt good and that was all that mattered. the girl who'd given him the weed, jieqiong, was pretty, black hair that flowed down her back and a cat-like smile that curled onto her lips. she was his friend, if he wanted to call the girl who gave him weed for free his friend. he'd told her she was leaving and kissed her before walking out, after she said  _"here's my number, call me if you ever need anything."_ she knew when he said  _leaving_ he meant the city, even if he didn't know where he was going.

ziyi dragged his feet along the cement of the concrete, humming an old song that he couldn't even remember the lyrics to. he's always liked feeling like this, like one of the balloon man things in front of car dealerships. he feels like he's floating and nothing can ground him. he wants to dance, and so he does. he dances kind of loosely, his vision hazy as he spins, and he doesn't pay attention to where he's going. he stumbles into the road, grinning at the lights coming his way. 

the car slams to a stop just a few feet in front of him, and a body smaller than ziyi's jumps out. he doesn't really register what's happening until a fist is meeting his face, and he's falling backwards onto the asphalt, his elbows scraping the road. he gets hit again, and makes the connection that it's funny, this person is smaller than him, but they're here completely overpowering him. he laughs, blood from his nose dripping into his mouth and leaving a metallic taste on his tongue.

"you're fucking crazy!" the person on top of him screams, and ziyi looks at them with squinted eyes. it's a boy, hair dyed blonde, and yellowing bruises decorating his face. he's kind of pretty, the moonlight sprawled across his face like a veil. "the second fucking time tonight—"

"stop!" a hand yanks the boy's arm, and blondie pushes them away, hissing curses under his breath. ziyi can't see who it is. "you'll kill him— stop!"

"what the fuck is wrong with you? are you high or some shit?" a fist meets his face again.

ziyi laughs louder, turning his head and spitting blood into the road before looking back at the boy on top of him. "you got that right," he says, his voice airy and calm despite the blood streaming down his face. "i think i  _am_ kinda high." 

blondie stares at him, his lips screwed up in disgust, and finally climbs off of him. whoever had grabbed the guy before, whoever he'd shoved away, mumbles to him, an airy whisper of a voice. ziyi stays on the concrete, staring up at the stars and connecting constellations that he can't name anymore.  _that one's a horse_ , he thinks to himself as his face throbs.  _or was it a goat?_

"get up." someone's fingers wrap around the top of his arm, yanking him to his feet harshly. "get in the car." 

ziyi tilts his head, blinking at the people in front of him. what kind of people let a high man who just stepped in front of their car go with them to  _wherever_ they're going? speaking of. "where are you going?" he asks, looking at whoever's holding him up. this one has dark brown hair, pretty wide dark eyes and his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. he's pretty too, in a hollow sort of way, like he's seen a lot of shit, and he's got a red stain on his forehead— but not the kind of red from a blush. "'n is that blood?"

the brown headed one pulls away from ziyi like he's been burned. "we don't fucking know where we're going," blondie snarls, distracting ziyi from the bloodstained boy. "just get in the car."

ziyi, still high and wanting to dance, shrugs his shoulders. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh... so i've never been high! ive never smoked weed ever, so a lot of googling went into this! i didnt really know how to write this chapter, i actually had a lil trouble, which is why it seems kind of messy, but i hope you enjoyed it anyway!!! leave feedback if you want, have an amazing day/night!!


	4. xukun.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ziyi's smiling too, and xukun notices that they both have shark-like smiles. they're predators, and he doesn't quite know who the prey is, but as long as it isn't himself, he's fine with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings for this chapter!!!!! _blood, idk there aren't really too many?? mentions of blood and stealing. and as always there's a bunch of cursing... still, be careful when reading!!_

xukun doesn't know why he'd let the  _bloodstained_ boy talk him into taking the high fuck into the car with them. he doesn't know either of their names, he doesn't know how old they are, he doesn't know anything about them. something in his head is screaming ' _you fucking idiot, they could be murderers!'_ one of them probably  _is._ but another part of him is whispering ' _you don't exactly have the cleanest record either._ ' xukun may be really fucking stupid, but he's always loved the rush of new things.

he doesn't know how long they've been driving, the new guy's high wearing off slowly. he's still humming to himself, shimmying his shoulders every once in a while, but he's quiet for the most part. he peeks his head between xukun's seat and the passenger's seat, prompting them both to glance at him. "so!" he exclaims, his voice too loud for them being all right next to each other. "what's your name? both of you, not just you," he clarified, once he realized that xukun was looking away from him and back at the road.

"zhengting," the boy in the passenger's seat said after a moment of silence.

 _do i give a fake name?_ xukun wondered to himself. maybe he should've, but there was adrenaline running through his veins, and maybe something in him was telling him that he had to tell the truth to these people. "xukun."

"great. i'm ziyi, and i think i'm gonna take a nap. maybe sleep off all the weed." xukun blinked, peering into the backseat using the mirror, and found ziyi laying down in the backseat, arm thrown over his eyes. "wake me up when we get to wherever we're going." xukun snorted a little, shaking his head.

he let the silence surround them again. zhengting didn't seem to care, staring out of the window and at the passing scenery with a serene look on his face. too serene, xukun thought, for someone who'd just been covered in blood. "so," he says, clearing his throat. zhengting looks over at him. "what's your story?" he only got silence in return. "okay, maybe not."

"look,  _he—_ " zhengting jerked his head in ziyi's general direction, "—is gonna want to know too. i'm only gonna say it once." xukun frowned, immediately dragging the corners of his lips back up when the motion made his cut burn. zhengting seemed calm. he seemed like this wasn't anything new to him, even though he'd been in shock before. 

 _something's off._ xukun decides, but he doesn't say anything about it. 

* * *

 

"hey." ziyi wakes up with a yawn, mouth stretched open and his eyes still closed. "we're at... i don't know where we are." xukun looked around, the morning sun beating down on him and making sweat bead on his forehead. zhengting was standing a few feet away, his face toward the sky. he looked like a sunflower that always followed the sun, basking in the light and in the fresh air. (even though the air smelled and tasted like sand.)

"you don't know how far out we are?" ziyi mumbled, voice still raspy from sleep. xukun only shakes his head, glancing around the gas station again. 

"we're out of gas."

the gas station, which was literally like a fucking  _ghost town_ , looked like it was out of gas too. zhengting wandered a little further, leaning against one of the posts attached to a gas pump. he looks disturbingly right there, like his whole life had lead up to being stranded at an isolated gas station with two strangers, a car that couldn't go any further, and no money.

"got any cash on you?" ziyi patted down his pockets like  _he_ had something, even though they both knew he had nothing. xukun shook his head. "me neither. he doesn't look like he has anything except for his clothes." 

"that's because i don't," zhengting called back at them, peeping into the windows of the gas station. "the cashier is asleep." he snickered a little, taking long strides back to the car.

ziyi blinked. "we could steal it. the gas. and some snacks, i'm getting hungry."

"let's at least check if there's any money in the car, alright? if there isn't,  _that's_ when we steal it." zhengting laughed at xukun's words, dragging the door open to begin his search. ziyi only sighed, turning around to shove his long fingers between the seats to search for literally  _anything_ that could get them out. xukun made himself search more thoroughly than he normally would, nearly getting his wrist stuck in one of the cup holders. "i'll check the trunk," he offers after a minute, sighing. it's fucking  _hot._

xukun climbed out of the front seat, lip caught between his teeth. he wanted to swear at the sky for making it so hot. his shirt was sticking to his spine, his bangs drenched with sweat that dripped down and made his eyes burn. he shakes his hair out of his eyes, grasping onto the handle of the trunk and pulling it up with a tug. it opened with a groan, and xukun felt as though he could cry.

"we're so  _stupid_ _!_ " he nearly screeches, and ziyi almost trips over himself trying to look into the trunk. both of them stand on either of his sides, zhengting's jaw dropped, and ziyi's mouth curled into an almost scary smile. 

"bro, who'd you steal this car from?" ziyi laughed, reaching out and holding up a wad of cash in his hand. "what kind of person leaves this much money in their car, what the fuck!" 

"i don't know! she was all drunk and shit, i wasn't really listening to her!" 

zhengting spins around once, and then again, hands thrown into the air and a white smile lighting up his face. xukun realizes belatedly that he's dancing, and ziyi drops the cash to join him, a little haphazard with his body, throwing himself around like he doesn't know what to do with himself. ziyi's smiling too, and xukun notices that they both have shark-like smiles. they're predators, and he doesn't quite know who the prey is, but as long as it isn't himself, he's fine with it.

xukun slams the trunk closed with a grin, and joins their dancing in the hot morning sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had to mention the shark-like smile thing bc ziyi has the cutest lil. baby shark teeth and i love him i hope he smiles more :( this chapter is kinda a mess but yes i hope you enjoyed it anyway wheeze sorry for not updating for a lil i love you all!!


	5. zhengting.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "the dollhouse was a brothel. a whorehouse, if you will."
> 
> xukun's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, and ziyi chokes unattractively on his tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings for this chapter!!!!! _cursing ofc, mentioned prostitution, homophobia, stealing, drugs, mentions of overdosing, child neglect, and murder._ please be careful when reading!!!!

zhengting's mind is everywhere but where it should be. his mind is on the money in the trunk of their stolen car, on the way xukun smiles when he thinks neither of them are watching, how ziyi keeps pressing his fingers into the dark red bruises on his face— what he _isn't_ really thinking about is how he's too young to go to jail.

the three of them are sitting in a diner they'd found in the middle of nowhere, plates upon plates in front of them. the place is basically empty, aside from the _one_ employee working there, who'd taken their orders, cooked the food,  _and_ brought it to them. the boy is asleep on the front counter. 

"what's your story?" xukun asks, the same way he had in the car earlier.

ziyi hasn't looked up from his pancakes since they'd arrived, but when xukun speaks, he glances up at him, cheeks stuffed full and syrup dribbling down his chin.

he at least has the decency to swallow before speaking. "there's not much to it." he shrugs. "grew up on daddy's money, and left because i wanted to do for myself. after i ran away i started taking from others, y'know, because i kinda  _didn't_ want to die. i pretty much stay high all the fucking time. i don't wanna be stressed or angry or sad. i don't really wanna feel." zhengting and xukun stare at him as he goes back to eating.

 _that's it?_ zhengting wants to ask, but he doesn't. instead, he takes a sip of coffee and turns his eyes to xukun instead. "you first."

xukun narrows his eyes, but leans back into the booth and crosses his arms over his chest. "i was born into this," he says with a shrug, "well. kind of. i don't know who my dad is, he left when i was a baby. but my mom had  _nothing_ , right? so she has to make money somehow, so she turned to prostitution—"

zhengting freezes, fork halfway to his mouth, and swallows harshly. he doesn't like the word prostitution. he never  _ever_ described it like that.

"i don't blame her. she did what she had to do," xukun says, "but then she started getting caught up with drugs, and when i was twelve she overdosed." he lets them register that for a second. "so then i was left on the streets, and i was a kid, so i had to steal to get by. at first it was just small stuff. a few dollars out of someone's wallet, an apple, a bag of chips, a bottle of water— then i started liking it. then i started taking stuff that mattered, like car keys, expensive watches, rings, anything that looked nice enough." xukun scoffs at himself. " _that_ came back to bite me in the ass. i stole from the wrong people, and then the bullshit started, but i couldn't stop. it makes me excited."

zhengting chews thoughtfully for a minute, staring down into his mug of coffee.  _leave us out of it,_ zeren whispers in his brain.  _you've gotta tell them_ , wenjun's voice echoes back. zhengting realizes belatedly that xukun and ziyi are staring at him, eyebrows raised, and the bacon in his mouth tastes kind of like blood. he ignores the way his tongue is burning.

"when i was nine," he starts, bile rising up in his throat. "my mother and father left me. they just... they just pretty much up and walked out one day. i don't know why. didn't exactly get the chance to ask them about it. our neighbors took me in, they raised me with their son, who's only a year younger than me. we grew up together, we did everything together, you know? he was my best friend, he was basically my brother, and when he turned eighteen, he told his parents that he was gay. they kicked him out, and i went with him."

zhengting still remembers exactly what he'd said to wenjun's parents, still remembers how he'd raised his chin defiantly and stared at them in the eyes. _"if he's leaving so am i,"_ he'd snapped, " _i'm sure you don't want one gay kid in your house after you've kicked the other out."_

"so you've got a nineteen year old and an eighteen year old on the streets, with nothing but the clothes on our backs, and we didn't know what to do. one of my friends from school, someone i trusted with my life, he... pulled us out of it. if that's what you wanna call it. he took us to the dollhouse." his chest clenches at the thought of yanchen, a bright white smile on his face as he lead the two of them through the doors for the first time. yanchen, with a crying zeren tucked into his side, frowning as he watched zhengting leave. or maybe his chest clenched at _the dollhouse_ being spoken in his own voice after trying so long to forget about it. "the dollhouse was a brothel. a whorehouse, if you will."

xukun's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, and ziyi chokes unattractively on his tea. 

zhengting doesn't mention how he was a favorite there, how his lithe body got him more 'clients' than anyone else. he doesn't mention the details of the dollhouse. he doesn't want to relive that.

"i left because i didn't wanna be seen as a toy anymore. then last night, i..." he shudders, thumbing at the fingerprint shaped bruises on his wrist from where he'd been grabbed. "there was a customer who tried to... he tried to touch me, and when i pushed him, he hit his head. i killed someone."

they both stare at him, xukun's eyes wide and sparkly, and ziyi's eyebrows furrowed. 

ziyi clears his throat. "we should go shopping," he says, like zhengting  _hasn't_ just admitted that he used to sell himself for money and that he killed someone. zhengting can't help but appreciate that.

xukun shrugs, snagging a piece of zhengting's bacon off of his plate. "we have the money for it. i'm sure you don't wanna stay in those clothes," he nods at zhengting, who blinks.

these are two strangers sitting in front of him. one who's a criminal, technically, and another who ran away from his  _rich parents._ these two men don't know him at all. they only know what he's told them, which, admittedly, is the truth— but they don't know that. he wants to question their judgement, but then again, he's sitting in front of them even after they've told him what  _they've_ done. the three of them may be completely stupid and naive and trusting, but they've got what looks like a million fucking dollars in the trunk of their stolen car.

"yeah," zhengting smiles, "let's go shopping."


	6. ziyi.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings for this chapter!!!!! _cursing ofc, drinking, stealing and drugs._ please be careful when reading!!!!

ziyi likes the feel of expensive material against his skin. it's not a new feeling to him, considering how he grew up, but it makes him feel like he's  _worth_ something. he looks at himself in the mirror of the bathroom in their pricey hotel room, twisting his body until his back clicks, just to see and feel the way the cloth flows against him. he grins at himself.

"are you done in there?" xukun calls into the bathroom, pounding on the door. "we've been waiting on you!" ziyi peeks at himself in the mirror once more, wondering how the fuck he'd ended up rich again—definitely not legally, but here he was anyway. poking his head out of the bathroom, he blinks as he sees the other two boys standing outside. however he'd ended up here, he was glad that he did.

when they had gone shopping earlier, zhengting had seemed the most out of place. he'd had his lip tucked between his teeth for the majority of the time, only picking things that the other two had suggested to him, and he didn't really seem like he wanted to be there. xukun had adapted quickly, walking through the aisles of the expensive store they were in with an almost childlike type joy in his eyes. he chose the most expensive things—he was the one who shoved the slik shirt ziyi was wearing at him. he seemed to know what was good and what was bad, a lazy smirk drawn across his face as he finally paid for what he wanted instead of taking it. still, ziyi and zhengting had both seen him tuck a watch into his pocket with mastered stealth.

looking at zhengting now, ziyi couldn't tell that he had at first been uncomfortable with anything. he was blinking at himself in the reflection of xukun's phone, rubbing a finger across the corner of his eye to get excess eyeshadow off. ziyi hadn't even noticed him grab any makeup, but his eyes were painted in shades of brown and red. he looked  _dark_ , with his black silk shirt and leather pants, and he looked like he belonged in a magazine. 

xukun had gone a lot more simple with his outfit, a black shirt that was half mesh and showed off quite a lot of his chest, and a velvet blue jacket half zipped up over it. his knees were exposed too, his black jeans had a thin line ripped through them, and his hair hung over his eyes with an elegance that made  _no_ sense to ziyi. leaning against the wall just outside of the bathroom, ziyi could see why he was so good at taking things. he was good looking enough to get away with it.

"you're pretty," he blurted, eyes flicking between the two of them. zhengting glanced up from the phone screen, amusement in his eyes, and xukun grinned a sharp grin at him. he hadn't meant to say it, but he wasn't going to take it back now that he had.

zhengting looked him up and down. "you're not too bad yourself," he drawled, standing up throwing xukun's phone to him. he stretched his arms over his head, his shirt riding up and showing the lines of his stomach. ziyi winked. "where are we going again?" 

"there's a club a few miles away with good drinks and good music," xukun repeats his words from earlier, "don't remember what it's called. we can call a taxi." the three of them had ditched their stolen car after packing the money in duffel bags they'd bought. "c'mon." he laid a hand on ziyi's shoulder, steering him away from the bathroom and to the door. "wait, where's the room key?"

zhengting pulls the room key from his back pocket, looking at ziyi, kind of like  _can you believe i have to do everything by myself?_ and ziyi does his best not to laugh. "i've got it, now let's go."

the ride there was filled with mindless conversation from the taxi driver and the three of them, about the weather or what was on the news—not that they had seen the news recently. by the time they got to the club, zhengting was shaking with restlessness, his eyes darting across the buildings outside of the window and his face lit up with the neon signs and streetlights. he nearly jumped out of the car the second the car stopped, bouncing on the balls of his feet as xukun and ziyi pay the taxi driver. ziyi purposefully takes his time getting out of the car, just to watch zhengting's face melt into annoyance.

they made it into the club without a problem, despite the fact that none of them had identification. "they didn't ask for ids," xukun mumbled, "what kind of club is this?" walking in, xukun's eye twitched. "never mind."

there were people everywhere, all over each other. the whole place smelled like weed and alcohol, something that was familiar to ziyi. the dance floor was easily the most crowded, everyone moving with each other rather than against each other, and zhengting slipped away from them and into the crowd of people. the two of them blinked at each other. "i'm gonna go get a drink or something," ziyi said after a moment of them just staring, "want anything?" xukun shook his head, smirking at him before disappearing into masses of people surrounding them.

an easy smile on his face, ziyi pushed his way through sweaty bodies to get to the bar. in the back of his head, he wondered who zhengting was dancing with and who xukun was (undoubtedly) seducing out of their belongings. more presently, he wondered who had the weed. 

once he has a drink in his hand, ziyi sits back and looks for the two he'd arrived with. he spots xukun first, in the corner of a booth, pressed tightly against a man's side, eyes slightly hazy but not completely drunk, and ziyi also notices his hand slink across the table and grab the man's wallet. shaking his head with an amused grin and wondering how xukun had not only managed to get slightly tipsy but also find someone to take from, he searches for zhengting in the crowd of people dancing. he finds him after a moment of staring so intensely his eyes begin to water. 

there's something graceful about the way zhengting moves, even though he's being pressed from all sides. he seems to belong in the sea of people, at home there, an expression of bliss on his face. his eyes are like xukun's, hazy but not drunk, the corners of his lips turned up into an almost unnoticeable smile. he looks the most peaceful ziyi has seen him in the short time they've known each other, and he also looks the most pretty.

peeking at xukun, ziyi sees that he's also watching zhengting. blinking, he decides to find the weed before he does something he shouldn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING FOR SO LONG I. school is kind of kicking my ass i just started college and yknow ive been trying to adjust but it's hard... thanks for still reading if u are here tho i'll try and update more!!


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